Touch of Fate 251 Chaos Intensifies

Mike ducked underneath the outstretched talons of the strange flying creature, a vaguely humanoid thing with membranous wings, and unleashed a gout of Fire Magic which sent it spinning towards the ground in a burning heap. Before he had a chance to catch his breath, he was forced to block as two more of the things attacked him. Perhaps noticing that his rider was in trouble, Red dropped into another dive, briefly distancing them from the cloud of enemies.

Capitalizing on the sudden space, Mike launched another fireball back at them which immolated several. This did nothing to prevent the others from coming after them with single-minded dedication.

Each of these monsters, which Appraise told him were called Plaguewings, was a misshapen, patchwork beast. Much like the famous creation of a fictional mad scientist from Earth, they seemed to have been made by stitching together the mismatched body parts of other creatures. This gave them a nightmarish, distorted appearance that would have been slightly comical if they weren't currently trying to tear his face off. To make it worse, they were apparently infected with all manner of horrible magical diseases, judging by the suppurating sores and ruptured boils that covered their bodies. These illness were infectious enough that he was forced to apply bursts of Healing Magic periodically in order to stave off their terrible symptoms.

[At least we've put some distance between us and the archers.] He thought to himself while commanding Red to circle back and place himself in a higher position relative to the attacking monsters. The annoying group of skeletal bowmen and their knight escorts were forgotten as Mike concentrated on one of the combo tactics he'd developed.

Once they were in position, Red breathed an intense cone of flame, incinerating a few of the leading enemies. Before the fire had a chance to burn itself out, Mike seized control of it with his will, intensified it, and pushed it towards the rest of the Plaguewings.

A roaring, incendiary stream surged forth and began to immolate them individually, while Red followed in its wake, occasionally crushing the few monsters that managed to escaped the conflagration. By the time Mike had to start investing large amounts of mana to keep the fire alive, they'd managed to destroy the vast majority of the winged beasts, so he let the spell drop.

"Whew. That should buy us a little breath-" He started to say, before a small barrage of arrows accurately targeted him from the ground.

Bringing up a momentarily mana shield to block the attack, he grumbled. "Oh for the love of...Let's go take care of them. Obviously they won't leave us alone."

They fell towards the ground once more, eyes focused on the knot of skeletal archers which were apparently still chasing them.

-------------------------------------------

Emmanuel was preparing to hit the last cluster of undead in front of them with blast of magic, when he caught sight of a group of enemy reinforcements. There were ten of them, and judging by their ethereal blue skin and daunting array of weaponry, they must be Death Knights. Thankfully, they were dismounted, meaning that fleeing was an option should the fight prove too difficult

"If they're breaking out their elites, we must be getting closer." He muttered to himself while hurling his Dimensional Slash at his original targets, cleanly bisecting the zombies and buying some time before the seemingly unending horde filled the opened space.

He announced to the other members of his spontaneously generated team, "We've got some tough ones incoming. Get ready."

The four of them had ended up moving together after the initial insertion. As per Johnathan's original plan, everyone essentially acted under their own initiative, which had resulted in dozens of small groups forming on the spur of the moment. This had the unintended side effect of allowing them to evade the encirclement of undead that had shown up immediately after they teleported in, but it was far from the ideal situation. Fortunately, Emmanuel at least had a few reliable allies to depend on.

Sir Graff de Ven, a knight from the Order of the Shield who'd retired to Almirn from his home country of Belith, reacted first and placed himself in front of the others. Emmanuel had scouted the man personally when putting together his batch of reinforcements, having worked with him on a few occasions during his adventuring days. Grey haired and scarred, the old veteran had proven himself a dependable fighter. He'd been acting as their vanguard throughout the last few fights. Despite protestations to the contrary, his abilities indicated that he was at least a low Tier 3.

Supporting the knight on the front line was Emmanuel's long-time coworker, Master Liam, an experienced martial artist who had taken on the role of the hammer to Sir Graff's anvil. The pair had quickly established a rapport and began working seamlessly in the manner of old veterans called back in to fight.

The final member of the group was something of a stranger. Emmanuel thought her name was Aedrin, but honestly he couldn't remember. Too much had been going on in the last few days, and it was difficult to recall all the new faces he'd been introduced to.

She'd originally been a member of the coalition army, and had joined the strike force on the Graveston heir's recommendation. Although her personality left something to be desired, a common problem for Sun Elves like her, she'd proven to be an exceptionally gifted fighter, single-handily taking up the rearguard position and holding it without any problems. Judging from her graceful combat style and ridiculous speed, she was probably one of the famed Eternal Blades.

This left Emmanuel with the dual role of party leader and primary ranged combatant, which had proven a bit taxing on him after transporting the entire fighting force. Nevertheless, he'd been prepared for this, and had brought a few spell storage items and mana potions for this express purpose.

The first of the Death Knights, an impetuous warrior who'd moved ahead of the rest, slammed into Sir Graff with his massive warhammer leading the charge. The old knight stood his ground and redirected the blow with his shield before stabbing forward with his short sword, aiming for the undead warrior's vulnerable armpit, where the armor was thinner. The attack was blocked by a hasty maneuvering of the hammer's haft, but that did nothing to prevent the follow up.

Liam slipped inside the Death Knight's guard and delivered a lightning fast series of punches that could barely be seen, but gave off a sound resembling the clashing of metal on metal. Emmanuel didn't quite catch what happened next, but in less than a second, the enemy was collapsed on the ground, blue flesh slowly dissipating as the animating force left its body.

Unsurprisingly, the rest of the undead responded logically by slowing their advance and spreading out to attack the pair from multiple angles. This would have usually led to a long battle of attrition as the many wore down and eventually overwhelmed the few, but they weren't alone.

Emmanuel finished his chant, teleporting Aedrin directly into the enemy formation. The space between two of the Death Knights warped momentarily before the elf appear, sword already in mid swing. After decapitating one of the undead warriors in a single strike and seriously wounding the other, she swept passed their counter attack and assumed a position in support of the other two.

In the intervening time Emmanuel, now the focus of two of the remaining Death Knights, released both of the spells stored in one of his silver rings. A small wave of conjured water struck both of the warriors, momentarily forcing them back and soaking them. Almost immediately afterwords, the second spell took effect, dropping the temperature in the area instantly. Both knights froze in place as their armored forms hardened in seconds. This wouldn't be fatal for them, being largely immune to the cold, but it would keep them immobilized for several minutes before the ice thawed enough for them to free themselves.

Taking a quick sweep of his surroundings, Emmanuel was beginning to feel a bit hopeful about their situation. Despite the ease with which they were dealing with them, these Death Knights probably represented the best of the Lacotian troops. There should only be a few commander level entities more powerful.

[At this rate...]

"An interesting formation you have there, and fairly effective too. Considering the...eclectic nature of your arrival, I'm rather impressed that you manged to get this far." A deep and strangely hollow voice rang out from Emmanuel's left. Turning, he felt his hope die in his chest.

A huge figure strode across the battlefield with calm and even steps, his ornate plate armor, made from a dull grey metal, barely reflected the sunlight that filtered through the now omnipresent dust clouds. A quick glance was all that was needed to confirm that this being, whatever his origin, was on a completely different level than the Death Knights.

It stood nearly 2.5 meters tall, a veritable giant compared to the rest of the combatants on the field. Although he didn't appear to be carrying a weapon, Emmanuel was certain that the such a being could easily kill him with his bare hands, or gauntlets as the case may be.

Two pale white lights, glimmering from the visor of the closed-face helm, focused on Emmanuel with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. Just judging from its presence alone, this warrior must be at least at the peak of Tier 3. He could only hope that it was not higher.

Sensing that the undead was interested in talking, at least for the time being, he tried to engage the creature while working on a mental chant. It wasn't a skill he'd fully mastered yet, so he needed some time to make use of it. "I don't think we've been introduced. Perhaps you could remedy that?"

The undead creature waved casually, signalling the Death Knights to fall back. "I'm surprised you haven't heard of me, considering the spy that I've been entertaining recently, but I suppose I haven't been giving him many opportunities to report back."

He moved to stand in front of the four of them, moving with an easy grace, despite what must be several dozen kilos of armor. "I am the Skull Lord Kultanis, and I have the honor of being the leader of this little expedition."

Emmanuel's thoughts froze for a second, and he almost lost the spell he was working on. Thankfully, long years of practicing magic had given him an iron will, and he was able to regain control of it before it rebounded on him. Nevertheless, he was shaken to the core.

Skull Lord was a title that belonged to one of the most powerful individuals in Lacot, second only to the Archlich himself. There was only one at any given time, and they were responsible for directing the Necrocracy's military. Several infamous undead champions throughout history were known to have carried that title, and in every case they were powerful and deadly beings capable of fighting whole armies by themselves. Beings that, even to this day, can inspire fear in the nations which have suffered under their onslaught.

Either noticing his reticence, or not particularly caring what they had to say, Kultanis continued. "Do not bother to introduce yourself. I am well aware of who you are, Emmanuel Garthun."
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Panicking, Emmanuel released his spell, distorting the fabric of reality around the Skull Lord in a random and chaotic pattern. Ordinarily, such an attack would tear his target asunder, but the distortion simply stopped roughly a meter in front of undead creature.

"You are quite famous amongst our kind, after all." Kultanis commented dry, as the air settled around him harmlessly. Whatever countermeasure he'd used had completely negated the spatial tearing, and left the old mage feeling dumbfounded.

[Some kind of Space Magic Resistance? Is that even possible?]

"I'm not sure how I should feel about being famous among the undead." Emmanuel replied in kind, mind now fully turned towards escape. It would be difficult to teleport long distances within the effect of the Lacotian shield, but he knew a few tricks that could at least get them out of this situation.

The Skull Lord raised a hand, palm facing towards the, and chuckled, "Although I'm sure a few of us have some knowledge of you, that is not what I meant. No, I was speaking of our shared perspective as mages, of course."

Emmanuel barely had time to consider that shocking revelation, when a wave of life-sapping darkness surged over them.

Chapter end